


Redemption

by QuantumAlice



Series: Redemption [1]
Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, F/M, Gen, Genderswap, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Inspired by..., Malex, Michael Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, so many things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuantumAlice/pseuds/QuantumAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Father… father please tell me what I have done wrong? Why have you forsaken me?” But there is no reply.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Ever wonder WHY Michael is so certain that Alex Lannon is the chosen one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OMFG! I don't even KNOW where this came from... well... *shuffles a bit* actually yeah I do... In season 1 Alex asks Michael a question which he never answers.
> 
> As a result, this came to be from a combination of an old Xena Warrior Princess Episode (you'll see what I mean soon enough), Dominion Season 1 episodes 3,7&8 and the fact that for a man who is almost 50, Tom Wisdom face is just so EFFING adorable!! It gave me ideas... which led me into remembering some stuff... and well... here we are lol!
> 
> *Forgot to add, this is also unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

In the pitch blackness he awakens, there is no sound, there is no light. There is only the nothingness, the endless void. He recognizes this place and its unfathomable vastness terrifies him.

_“Father… Father, please are you here?”_ The words were spoken, for he felt them form from his lips, but the void has swallowed them. It was like he’d never spoken. So he tries again, even if it was in vain.

_“Father! Father, please! Tell me why I am here? Why did you send my brother and sister after me? Have I not served you faithfully father? Done your bidding exactly as you demand? Am I not your sword? The one charge with delivering your righteous wrath upon those who are not worthy of your love? Father… please why? Please tell me why? Why would you let them almost kill me? Why would you return me here? Why… why would you leave me all alone?”_ He paused, reaching out into the eternal emptiness. He searches, for something, for anything, a clue, a glimmer of hope, his father’s blessed light.

However, there is nothing, only hollow darkness. His knees give way under him. When warm salty tears fall from his cheeks; it is only then that he became aware he was crying.

Through broken, heartfelt sobs he begs, _“Father… father please tell me what I have done wrong? Why have you forsaken me?”_ But there is no reply.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, huddled on the ground, knees drawn to his chest, wings wrapped around his form. They were the only comfort he had left since Father refused to answer his pleas. Eventually, he musters up the strength to stand, or at least he thinks he’s standing. He can feel his legs moving as if he was walking so it must be so.

For what seems like an eternity, he stumbles through the void. Unsure of what direction he was going or if he was making any progress, he pushed forward. He walks until his muscles start to burn and his legs ache. He walks until his wings start to drag behind him, becoming more of a burden than a source of solace. He walks until his legs give out and he collapses to his knees. Then, after a while, he gets back up and walks some more. The cycle repeats over again and again, with each fall taking him longer to recover from.

And then… the moment comes when the Archangel could no longer get up. So he crawls, blindly grasping out in the void. Inch by painful inch he grovels on the ground, crying for his Father, praying for forgiveness. But there is no reply.

In the end what little strength the Archangel has left fails him. He can no longer move, or muster the will to call out for his Father. All he can do is lay there until the unfathomable vastness consumes him.

Time passes, how much he isn’t quite sure, however, the strangest sensation comes over him. It compels the Archangel to raise his head. It takes a great effort to do such a miniscule act, but once he does so he is rewarded. In the distance there is a light, which wasn’t there before. It’s tiny but in the thick black abyss it shines like a beacon.

It gives him the strength to pull himself up, to raise his wings and shield his face. The light fills the Archangel with longing and that emotion further powers him to stand. He staggers towards the brightness, his feet more than once tripping him up in his haste to reach it. As he gets closer the light increases in its luminosity, until it overwhelms him and he can recognize it for what it truly is.

_“Father!”_ He cries in jubilation, falling to his knees in his most penitent bow. When he dares to lift his head, to speak the words of repentance and beg for forgiveness something happens. A thought that is clearly not his own stops the Archangel cold.

_Homicidium_ _nefas est_ _homo,_ _nam Angeli_ _nefas_ _?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never ever write "the voice of God", with that being said I think the last line of this story seems... fitting. It's supposed to be in Latin however, I did use GOOGLE Translate for it so I'm not sure how accurate it is. Lastly, I will update this on my Tumblr account 1st, then here. So feel free to look me up at: talesfromawanderingbard :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s 3:33 A.M. she’s only gotten an hour and a half worth of sleep._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me what felt like FOREVER to write and I'm still not quite happy with it. However, it was necessary evil and I needed to get it out of the way. Don't be surprised if I change it though =p you've been warned!
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to all the people who have left me kudos! And my very special reviewer! *winks* It really makes me feel so happy.  
> As with the others this is unbeta'd for now, all mistakes are my own!

It starts like all the rest… in flames. However, it doesn’t make the nightmare any easier to cope with. In fact, knowing that it’s a dream doesn’t stop the fear from reaching out; from grasping her heart with its cold boney fingers and squeezing. From paralyzing her.

She can barely breathe.

Her lungs are boiling from the inside. She can feel them shrivel up, turning to ash as the seconds tick by.

All she can see is red.

The flames have surrounded her, there is no escape. She’s trapped in the heat, in the fire, enveloped in burning red, slowly suffocating by the black.

She knows she’s going to die.

Cherry red flames lick the bottom of her heels, she wants to scream, but there is no air left for her to breathe. Salty tears slip down her cheeks, they evaporate half way.

Then the man comes.

He’s covered in black, as thick as the smoke that’s choking her. She watched him move through the flames, through the fumes as if it was nothing. As if he was on a leisurely stroll in the park without a care in the world. The fire doesn’t touch him, in fact the flames almost seem to cower out of his way.

He’s coming for her.

She can feel the heavy tread of his boots on the fragile wooden floor. Their stride, even, he’s in no hurry. This man, whoever he is knows that the flames will keep her pinned. They’ve already spread to her legs. More snake their way onto her arms.

He finally reaches her.

The man stands there for a moment, looking down at her. The heat rolls off his form in invisible waves. He seems to be contemplating something.

He’s kneeling down beside her.

It’s as if time has slowed to a crawl. She still feels the flames eating at her, still hear the echoes, creaks and groans from the weakening structure. With the last remaining strength left in her body, she musters up the will to speak. “This isn’t real,” she gasps to the shadow man as the smoke clogs her windpipe. “This is a dream…”

He leans forward, so close that she can just make out his face from the shadow. Its horrible. She feels his hand hovering above her chest, directly over her heart. Then the man over her chuckles, its such a dark and icy sound.  His thin, cracked lips twists into a feral grin, displaying pointed teeth.

“No my dear, it is not.”

His hand slams into her chest, searing her flesh without mercy. The pain, sharp white hot sparks streaked with crimson, is beyond anything she has ever felt.  Her eyes roll in the back of her head. The fire consumes her, body and soul.

She does the one thing left to her.

She screams.

The man in shadow laughs.

* * *

  
Alex bolts from her dream. Gasping for air, hands clutching her sheets in a death grip.  Her heart battering at what felt like a thousand beats per second. With faint reverberating traces of fire and fear still clinging to her subconscious. She’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, hair plastered to her face.

Her whole body _aches_.  It’s a dull sort of pain that never seems to go away, lingering always in the background waiting to strike. And strike it did. A piercing pain seized her chest, her hand instinctively rests on her heart.

It hurts. Everything _hurts_. She closed her eyes. Took deep, calming breaths as she rode out the waves of discomfit crashing over her. It was only a dream, she knew this. Nightmarish echoes left over from the real event. Made worse because Alex didn’t remember much of what had happened.  A fact, her mind struggles to make sense of.

Once the ache subsides, Alex glanced at her alarm. It’s 3:33 A.M. she’s only gotten an hour and a half worth of sleep. Cursing under her breath, she flings back her covers and stumbles to her bathroom. She doesn’t bother with the lights, using only the nitelight already plugged up to navigate her way to the sink.

The water from the tap is shockingly cold, just what she needs to shake off the last remaining remnants of the nightmare. Splashing her face a few more times, Alex leans heavily on the counter, palms flat on the cool ceramic surface. She scowls hard at the woman in the mirror.

  “You have _got_ to get a grip on yourself Alex.” She dictates to the reflection. “You can’t keep doing this. _It. Is. Over._ You’ve survived the fire, you are _alive_.”  With a jerk of her head she pushes off the counter. She paces. Five steps to her claw-foot shower tub. Stop. Turn. Five steps back to her vanity sink. Stop.

Alex glares at her likeness, pointing her index finger accusingly at the mirrored image. “And no stupid ass dream or stupid ass boogie-man can take that away from you!” In a fit of righteous anger Alex hikes the sleeves of her pajama top to her elbows, baring her burnt marred arms.

  “Now _look_ at them!” She orders aloud.

She forces herself to stare at them, to visually catalog all of the scarring and disfigurement. With her eyes, Alex traces them from the palms of her hands, noting how they twist their way up her forearms in a sort of grotesquely pretty pattern. They disappear under the thin cotton fabric of her shirt, but Alex can still see them in her mind’s eye.

She knows how they continue over her shoulders, across her collar bone, down her chest, breasts and rib cage. They continue further still around her pelvis, hips, along her back and buttocks before spiraling around her legs.  Stopping finally at the balls of her feet.

She knows and partially accepts that these scars are now a part of her life. Nothing will change that and in all honesty that’s not what’s bothering Alex.  
No… it was those dreams and that man.

  “Gah-dammit Alex!” she chastises to her reflection, “What am I doing? _What. Am. I. Doing?_ ” She scrubs her face with her scarred palms and sighs wearily. She was tired, no scratch that, she was fucking exhausted.

  “My life was so much simpler when my dreams were only plagued with ‘Heaven’s Sword’.” Alex mutters to herself resignedly. She makes a face at her reflection, then exited the bathroom.

However, she doesn’t return to bed. Instead, Alex makes a beeline to her closet, grabs her old but trusty pair of pumas and her Vega Academy hoodie. She heads towards her veranda doors, pocketing her keys and mobile along the way. The plan was to walk to the stream from the woods at the back of her house. It wasn’t far, just a ten minute trek there and back.  And then, perhaps when her mind was finally clear, she would do some sketches until sleep or morning came.  
Whichever was first.

* * *

  
However, fate had other ideas.

Alex had only made it ten steps from her patio when she heard a noise. She froze. There was something in her backyard. Fishing in her hoodie pocket for her mobile, Alex flicked on the app flash light.

Warily, she inched across the yard, swinging her mobile light to and fro. She hoped it was just an animal, like a possum or an owl or some other nocturnal creature. After several breath holding moments, Alex dismissed the noise. Chalking it up to either nature or her own overactive imagination.

She gives a little laugh at her wounded nerves until, that is, she heard the noise again. Immediately Alex shined her light at the storage shed, which sat to the right of her house just before the woods.

The noise came from there, she was sure of it. Letting out a slow breath, Alex headed towards the shed, picking up a discarded rusty gardening claw when she got close.

There’s another rustling sound. Alex readied her garden claw for battle, silently counting to three in her mind. At three, Alex shouts and rushes the corner. She held out her mobile light with the intention of blinding whatever was there. But when her flashlight settles on the mysterious source, the war cry dies from her lips and Alex drops the gardening claw.

Her large brown eyes widen in shock and utter disbelief. It takes the young woman a long while to marry what she’s seeing to her brain and actually believing what she is seeing. To be absolutely sure that what Alex was staring at was indeed right fucking there. She rapidly opens and closes her eyes several times.

It’s still there.

She can only think of one thing to say.

“What the fuck…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings* Cliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiff Hanger! Hanging from a cliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiff!! And that's why he's called Cliff Hanger!!!!! =D Next chapter will be much more lighthearted! I promise!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She’d never in her life seen a baby look both helpless and resentful at the same time. It was like he was deliberately going out of his way to shriek her eardrums off._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter yay!! I meant to have this out sooner but I was feeling a bit under the weather the last couple of days.
> 
> *note: This is still unbeta'd all mistakes are mine! Sorry.

“That’s… That’s a baby…”

Alex glared.

The baby screeched.

“Way to state the obvious asshole! _I know_ he’s a baby!”

“It’s 4:15A.M. _Excuse me_ for not being awake enough for… for whatever _this_ is.”

Ethan flushed hotly, running a sheepish hand behind his neck. Alex went back to bouncing and cooing the wailing, fussy bundle in her arms. Trying all types of calming tricks her mobile recommended, however, said bundle was having none of that. She’d never in her life seen a baby look both helpless and resentful at the same time. It was like he was deliberately going out of his way to shriek her eardrums off.

Ethan looks from the baby to his best friend. Shuffles nervously, coughs, opens his mouth to speak, then shuts it. Alex, seeing all this, threatens to throw one of her couch cushions at him if he doesn’t _just fucking spit it out already Ethan!_

This caused her best friend to pout, citing hurt feelings.

Alex made good on her promise. Seconds later Ethan barely manages to duck an incoming circular; magenta, orange and black striped projectile.

“Woah! Hey now! Calm down, Xena! Is that any way to set an example to junior over there?”

Alex raised another cushion threateningly, Ethan holds up both hands in surrender.

“Alright! _Alright!_ Damn your violent streak woman!”

“You were warned!” Alex scoffs unsympathetically, tilting her chin out of the way in time to dodge an angry toddler's fist. She was getting surprisingly good at it. “This… creature has been screaming at the top of his lungs _nonstop_ for the last _thirty minutes_.”

“Speaking of which…”Ethan ventures carefully, for he knows he’s treading on dangerous ground. “Er… _where_ did you get that baby?”

She shifts the squirming child from one hip to the other and sighs tiredly.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll wait until Noma gets here and tell you both at the same time. She should be here soon; I called her right after you.”

“Fine.” Ethan steps closer to get a good look at the child. “Do you want me to hold him for a bit? You look tired.”Alex hesitates, glancing from her friend’s out stretched hands to the red faced screaming toddler. A part of her realizes that she shouldn’t feel so… _reluctant_ and yet for all the child’s howling glory, Alex doesn’t want to let him go.

It was such a strange feeling.

“Yeah… sure thanks.” She replies with a half-felt smile, “I’m gonna go in the kitchen and see if I have some… applesauce or something?” Alex paused, a small frown gracing her features. “He should be able to eat that right? I mean he does _have_ teeth...”

Her friend shrugs, his attention split between Alex and the wailing baby of doom, “I’m the last person you should be asking these things too.” He tells her absently.

Alex narrowed her eyes at Ethan. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I‘ll be right back.” She pads into her kitchen, silently mulling over the contents of her fridge. However, a flash of insight causes the artist to peek her head back into the living room. Just in time to see Ethan get his nose clawed at. Ethan yelps in surprised pain. Alex winces, completely sympathizing. That’s gotta hurt…

“Oh yeah… I was about to warn you about those ninja baby nails… He’s pretty quick on the draw with those things…”

It’s Ethan’s turn to glare now. “You _think!?_ Dammit… that stings! I think that little bugger drew blood! You know what? How about _you_ hold his royal fussiness and _I’ll_ check your fridge for the damn applesauce!”

Her best friend was up and off the couch quicker than she could blink. He all but shoved the screaming toddler in her arms and stomped off into the kitchen still cursing. Alex sighed warily, holding a hand up just in time to block another flying baby fist.

 

* * *

 

Noma arrives fifteen minutes later.

“Okay I’m here now what… is that a _baby_!?”

“ ** _Yes!_** ” Answers Alex and Ethan from the couch. The two of them were busy trying (and laughably failing) to feed the keening child the applesauce Ethan had found. More of it went _on_ the baby instead of _in_ him.

Noma folded her arms, her hazel gaze going in between Ethan, Alex and the baby respectively.

“Well… is somebody going to tell me exactly _where_ this baby came from?”

Ethan looked over his shoulder to Noma, “I’ve been wondering that myself. I had to wait because little miss secrets over there wanted to tell us both.”

Alex scowled darkly at her best friend, punching his arm. “I didn’t want to have to repeat myself you jerk!”

Before Ethan could muster up a comeback, Noma raised a hand in the air interrupting. “Guys please! We have more pressing issues! Namely that,” She gestured sharply to the toddler in Alex’s lap. “So if you please?”

With one final glower to her friend, (which was returned in kind) Alex turned her attention back to the child. He had settled down somewhat but Alex had a sneaking suspicion that it was due to him wearing himself out and _not_ because of anything she or Ethan did. Nevertheless the child still let out pitiful whimpers every now and then, while glaring at Alex with an expression that could only be called ‘defiant.’

Pinching her brow between her forefinger and thumb, Alex proceeded to explain what happened.

“I’d just woken up from another… dream.”

“You had another nightmare didn’t you Alex!” Ethan cuts in, his tone laced with concern and worry. Alex sighed heavily, reluctantly admitting that yes she’d had. Her best friend whirls around to Noma, “I told you she was still having them! She needs help, Alex you need to talk to _someone_ about these dreams!”

She looks away from her friends, her eyes focusing on the window to the sun that was beginning to rise outside.

“I am fine… I don’t need to talk to some Shrink.”

“That’s a load of bull if I’ve ever heard! Noma, _tell her_ I’m right!”

The woman in question rubs her temples, trying in vain to ward off a migraine that was in the works. “Talking to someone _might_ help Alex.” She begins slowly (Ethan shoots Alex a triumphant smirk. Alex ignores him.) “However, we can’t _make_ Alex do anything she’s not ready to do. The only thing we _can_ do is be there for her because she is our friend.”

“ _Thank you_ Nomes” Alex states evenly. There is an air of finality in her tone. Her friends know the subject about her nightmares was closed and while Alex stared at the baby lost in thought, the two shared a glance. Mutually agreeing to leave the topic alone… _for now_.

“Anyways,” Alex continues. “I got up, splashed some water on my face and then decided to go for a walk. When I went outside in my backyard I heard a noise. It was coming from my shed, so I had a look and I found him…”

Ethan gives a low whistle; Noma shakes her head muttering, _damn, poor kid,_ under her breath. The toddler was still glaring at Alex, as if he silently blamed her for his abandonment. Which was absurd, but it still made the artist feel guilty for some unknown reason.

“I checked around my house, but I saw no one and no clues as to who’d left him. As for the rest Ethan can tell you, he spent the majority of it wailing like a banshee from hell, while ninja attacking us with his evil baby claws of doom.”

“And that damn kid has got a nasty scratch.” Ethan mumbled sourly. He was still sore about the nose thing. Noma gave a smirk to her grumbling friend before returning her attention back to Alex.

“Have you called C.P.S. yet?” Noma inquires hesitantly, for she knows how her friend felt about them.

A stony expression shutters on Alex’s brown features, “No I haven’t.” she responds coolly.

“Don’t you think you should?”

Alex made a face.

“No, not really… that’s why I called _you._ You’re the police officer here Noma. I’m reporting a missing child to _you_.”

Said police officer sighed. She was going to need that Excedrin sooner rather than later. “Alex, you know that’s not how it works. You have to call them.”

“Why!? So they can take this kid and toss him into the system? Leaving him to rot or worse yet, bounce from foster home to foster home until he’s eighteen? This kid already has an attitude problem and he can’t even talk yet!”

“Alex not all people in the system are like that…”

“Bull _shit!_ ”

Seeing where this disagreement was heading to, Ethan tactfully intercedes between the two women.

“Woah, woah hey now! Okay everyone calm down! How about this, it’s a four day weekend. We’ll all keep an eye out on the news to see if anyone reports a baby fitting his description. If they do, we turn him in immediately, understand? Noma you let Alex keep Ninja Babyclaws until Wednesday. Alex, you and I will go to the station and report the baby missing _on_ Wednesday. Okay?”

“Okay…” Alex reluctantly concedes.

“I don’t like it, but fine, _only_ until Wednesday.” Noma grudgingly agrees.

Ethan claps his hands, “Good, now I don’t know about you but, Ninja Baby is going to need more than just your old Vega Academy tee-shirt for clothes. We’ve been lucky so far, but eventually he’s gonna have to go… _you know._ ”

The three friends focused on the angry toddler, who had been surprisingly silent throughout the whole exchange. No less angry, just quiet.

“You’re right about that, he’s definitely going to need some supplies.” Alex studies the baby carefully. Her artist eye takes in his features, noting his squishy peaches-n-cream skin, chubby rosy cheeks, button nose, massive sky blue eyes and soft jet black; downy hair. It was then that she realized this wailing ninja was actually kind of cute.

When he wasn’t attacking her or busting her eardrums that is.

“Noma, grab my credit card from my wallet. If he’s staying with me it’s only fair that I pay for things he needs.” She holds out the baby a little ways from her, “What do you guys think? He’s got to be fifteen… maybe eighteen months old? He doesn’t look quite like he’s two yet.”

The police officer and teacher both lean forward, sizing up the child. He glares back at them, as if offended by their scrutiny.

“That seems like a fair guesstimation I think.” Ethan replies. Noma nods her head agreeing. Together the trio made a list of all the things they thought Ninja baby would need. Starting with the essentials, diapers, wipes, formula and clothes. Since Alex seemed to be the only one who could block most of his sneak attacks, she was elected to stay with him, while Ethan and Noma went shopping. Once the plan was set all the players settled into their parts.

When her friends left her house, Alex smiled at the toddler.

“Well kid, it looks like it’s just you and me now. Let’s be friends eh?”

His reply came in the form of a flying slap to her face. Alex sighed.

“Yeah… that’s what I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you enjoying this? Please let me know what you think! I love feedback! ^_^


End file.
